


Mistakes

by PrettyBoyTendou



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Mob, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M, mafia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-03
Updated: 2019-12-03
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:00:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21658675
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyBoyTendou/pseuds/PrettyBoyTendou
Summary: Daishou Suguru, a lonely university student, is forced to discover new passions when highschool ends.His rotten attitude and general unpleasantness pushes people away, leaving him completely solitary.Or, almost. Somehow, he attracts the attention of Terushima Yuuji, a known delinquent to many, if not most, students in the area, but not to Daishou.Somehow, his insults and snarky comments manage to win over the troublemaker, unknowingly dragging said trouble into his life.
Relationships: Daishou Suguru/Terushima Yuuji
Comments: 9
Kudos: 64





	1. An Encounter

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything in literal years, constructive criticism is very welcome. I apologize for any issues, this isn't Beta read. This is also unfinished and will be, hopefully, continued regularly.

Daishou Suguru is often described as an asshole, and boy is he sure proud of it. He thrives when being an overbearing douche, and there's nothing more he loves than for someone to sneer, roll their eyes, and spit out something along the lines of "pretentious fucking douchebag", or, "wow, you're a cunt" in his direction. People these days just don't know how to banter, or so he tells himself, and he loves watching people squirm under his intense gaze, watching them recoil from his sharp words too much to stop to just be nice. 

Of course he knows that this little attitude of his often leaves him alone, what with his highschool friends scattered to the winds and all. It's hard to hang out with them, and he hasn't met anyone who can handle his... Strong personality, not quite yet. But, he's found that he almost enjoys the solitude he'd found after leaving highschool. Almost.

It's left him exploring his interests and hobbies, learning what he loves. The most surprising interest he's found, has been his love for museums, all kinds. Modern art, historical art, historical in general... They're just fun, and peaceful. And, since he's a student, he either gets in for free, or gets a wicked discount. And that's why, now, he often finds his Saturdays spent doing just what he's doing now, sitting in small, sweet little museum cafés, sipping lazily on coffee and examining whatever new attention pieces are hung in the entrance. 

One of the main pieces is currently a large oil painting of a beautiful man, seemingly no older than 19 or 20, no older than Daishou himself. He's pale, deathly pale, and his golden hair is matted with blood. And yet despite the obvious aura of death, he looks peaceful, like there aren't arrows lodged in his gut and chest. It's not a thought provoking piece, and he's sure it's based off some old literature, but he finds himself entranced nonetheless, leaning his cheek against a palm, swishing his cup slowly. 

He's so entranced, that someone dragging a chair out next to him almost makes him jump. Almost. He's proud to know that he stopped himself. What's more shocking than the screech of the chair, though, is that it's not pulled to a separate table, but instead sat in, and a man's soon leaning towards Daishou. There's a moment of silence as he looks towards the intruder, a grinning man with bleached hair, before said intruder speaks. "He's pretty hot, isn't he?"

"What?" Daishou responds, most definitely not at his sharpest. He can feel his brows furrow with confused annoyance. 

The blond throws his head back with a loud laugh, allowing Daishou another moment to examine and to collect his wits. There are a few glints of piercings, one on his brow, another two on his lower lip, and maybe even one through his tongue. He's not too sure about that's last one though. He has an undercut (ew), his roots are a dark brown, and he's dressed like a complete idiot, at least from what Daishou can see. A large black band tee for some obscure group, and an ugly, classic tartan patterned turtle neck underneath. He's sure the rest of the outfit is just as horrendous. 

"I said, he's not. You know, the guy in the painting. Let's see... Uh... Sexy. Attractive... Bangable!" He offers with an even wider grin, and Daishou notices that, yes, he does indeed have a tongue piercing. A stupid rainbow ball. 

Arching his brow, his lips curling into a lazy smirk, Daishou let's his eyes lock with the man's. "Of course someone like you would think that." He coos, fluttering his lashes innocently, as though he's not slipping a hidden insult at the stranger.

The man only laughs. "I think that I'm gonna take that as a compliment, so thank oh very much." He leans against the table, a bit closer to Daishou. His gaze is intense, but teasing, a contrast to Daishou's own strong but icy, amused one. "I do have to ask though, why exactly would someone like me think that, hm? What exactly are people like me?" He coos, head tilting lazily as he reaches out to bump his knuckles to Daishou's cheek, winking. 

Daishou smacks his hand away, keeping his signature fuck you smile as he huffs. "People like you, are filthy, disgusting, delinquents, of course. Only a nasty perv would get their rocks off to a dead dude." He purrs, finally tearing his eyes away and lifting his coffee to his lips, taking a slow sip. His nose wrinkles. He hadn't noticed it went cold. 

A soft snort of amusement brings his attention back to the stranger. "How very rude~! Not wrong, of course, but still rude!" He lets out a bubbly laugh, close to a giggle, making Daishou roll his eyes. "I think I quite like you~ the name's Terushima, but I also accept Teru. For you, I'd even allow handsome, or maybe even daddy~" He grins cheekily, throwing a hand towards Daishou. Daishou wrinkles his nose again, his act of indifference slipping, just a bit. Now he's getting... Hit on?

"I didn't ask, nor do I care." Suguru huffs lightly, starting to gather his things, a few notebooks and stuff for school, standing with a snarky grin to Terushima. "No offense or anything, but I have better things to do than to talk to a freak like you." His tone is sickeningly sweet as he slides his books into his shoulderbag, starting to head for the café exit, into the museum lobby. 

His wrist it grabbed gently before he can get too far, and a laminated card is slid between his fingers, pressed into the palm of his hand. Terushima's standing behind him, leaning over his shoulder. "You know, I'm a freak in many ways, Su~Gu~Ru! Maybe you'll let me show you someday, hm?" Daishou's breath catches in his throat as the fake blond steps past him, sauntering away.

"How did you..." Daishou croaks, brows furrowing as Terushima gives him a half assed wave, not bothering to turn around, before he turns the nearest corner outside the café, heading somewhere into the museum.

Looking to the paper in his hand, Daishou groans in immediate recognition, and annoyance. He must've dropped his student ID at some point during his coffee break, because now it's fucked safely against his palm, with the name 'Teru', and a phone number, scrawled messily along the front of it, almost unreadable. 

Oh joy. The fucker ruined his ID.


	2. To Make Your Bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daishou Suguru makes a pretty fucked up discovery, and to his disdain, has to suffer the consequences that come with knowledge.

If it weren't for his ruined ID, Daishou would've already forgotten about his annoying little encounter. Sure, he'd fumed through the first few paintings he'd passed by (especially that first one, the bloody boy), but he'd eventually let it go, and forcing all thoughts if Terushima to the back of his mind. Not forgotten, but ignored. 

He's not about to let an insufferable asshole ruin his whole day. 

As usual, Daishou spends hours wandering through the quiet halls, listening in with a keen ear to the chatter of friends and families when they pass by. His eyes stay locked on the pieces of art, never once flickering towards the conversations he's listening in on. Following along with his normals schedule, Daishou starts heading back to the café. 

He finds, though, that he's soon stopped dead in his tracks, eyes staring down the hall that Terushima had disappeared into earlier.

It's a restricted wing, marked off for construction, and Daishou's pretty damn sure that the creep is neither a museum employee, nor a construction worker. Or at the very least, he doesn't know how to dress for either job. 

And, while standing and staring like an idiot, he realizes he doesn't actually hear any construction.

He fumbles his phone out of his pocket, nose curling when the screen lights up with the time. 2:30, what he would think is prime construction time...

Suguru's not a bad kid, he wouldn't normally purposely ignore such a blatant rule set out for his own safety... But he's also very nosy, and some rules are made to be broken, right?

Sparing a quick glance, Daishou's diving under the heavy rope, and praying to God that his eyes hadn't deceived him when they saw no one nearby. 

The very first odd thing he notices is that, not a single piece of art is covered (although it is modern art, so maybe they just don't care enough to. The damages can be played off as something deep, like a representation of a broken society, he supposes). But really, the statues should be put away, or covered at the very least, and the paintings shouldn't be hung up to collect all the gross construction dust. 

The second odd thing he picks up on, is that there's not a single piece of construction equipment. Not even a ladder. But, to give them the benefit of the doubt, maybe construction just finished, and they're just starting to put things away. 

It's a possibility, right? And maybe Terushima's clothing could work for someone just transporting art... Maybe. 

Still, despite his mostly solid theory, Daishou still creeps deeper into the section. Sure enough, near the back of the modern art wig, he can hear voices, not speaking too loud, but enough so that it grabs his attention. So as any curious creature does, he slinks forward, until he's just sheltered by a wall, peeking around the corner. 

The reality of what he's looking at doesn't really hit. The stack of green wrapped rectangles, something that looks like a badly made pyramid, seems to be a really weird art piece. But Daishou really isn't an idiot, and he follows the news and watches enough true crime films and shows. It clicks, that's he's looking at a bunch of fucking coke, all nicely packed and ready to be shipped off. 

To be real honest, he's shocked. Why the fuck would there be coke hiding in a construction section of his favorite museum?! His mouth hangs open, gaze tearing itself away from the drug pyramid, locking on the two people talking just past it.

If his jaw could drop any lower he's sure it would. 

He really shouldn't be surprised though, he had said himself that the kid's a clear delinquent, and yet that was mostly for show. He hadn't expected to see him peddling drugs! Terushima's chatting away with another man, who's hair is dark, one of his elbows resting on the drug pyramid, the other arm swinging up expressively now and again.

Daishou can't really see the other man, who's standing in front of Terushima, but he seems to be laughing, as though he's being told a joke or something. 

Once everything settles into place in Daishou's mind - Terushima is chilling with drugs. Terushima's probably selling drugs. Terushima, a probable drug dealer, hit on him?! And with that Daishou feels a wave of panic hit him in the face, like he's a small child playing in an anxiety ocean for the very first time, and his teeth are pressing hard into his bottom lip.

Maybe to stop a groan that he could feel bubbling in his chest, or maybe just to shock himself back into movement, he's not sure. 

He's careful as he starts to back away, making sure his shoes don't click too loudly against the floor. His throat is burning (nerves? Tears? He's unsure), and his body is nearly vibrating, or it at least feels like it is. 

A hand presses down gently on his shoulder, and he screams. His eyes lock on Terushima's, who's own are probably just as wide as Daishou's, as a hand clamps itself tight over his lips. 

The grip on his shoulder and over his mouth isn't painful, but it's not comfortable either. 

"Shhhh, quiet... Don't worry, we're just going to have a little talk, okay?" A man whispers, leaning in close to Daishou's ear. His voice is somehow both calming and frightening, and he catches a glimpse of pale brown hair as the man shifts his weight to push Daishou towards Terushima. 

Perhaps pushed is a little harsh... It's more like... He's being navigated.

Terushima's expression of shock has shifted, his lips curled into a sly grin, and his brows raised almost mockingly.

"Well I wasn't expecting to see you so soon, Suguru dear~! Nice little scream, by the way, although I'd really rather hear it somewhere else... How does between my sheets sound~?" Terushima purrs this out so sweetly that it almost doesn't make Daishou want to retch, his hand coming up to gently grip the brunet's chin. 

The man behind him let's go, and Daishou can hear him take a step or two away, laughing lightly as he does so. "Oh, so this is the poor fucker that caught your eye. He doesn't seem like your usual type, he's quiet." He hums. 

"No, trust me, he's snarky. And he's pretty cute, isn't he~" Terushima coos, leaning in closer to Daishou, forcing the man to lean back with a grimace. "Seems like he thinks I'm pretty cute too... He just couldn't stay away! Didya miss me, cutie?" 

He gives Daishou's cheek a pinch, like an annoying old lady, which snaps the brunet back to the present moment. 

His lips curl back in a snarl and his hands shoot up and shove violently at the man's chest. This pushes him backwards, straight into the other man who had let him go. Straight into one of Terushima's fucking friends. 

"No! Fuck no! I just knew you were up to something sketchy, coming into a restricted section... Clearly I was fucking right!" Daishou hollers this, hissing as he's grabbed once again by the man behind him, who seems a bit pissed now, his nails digging into Daishou's arms.

He pipes up with something that makes Daishou's blood run cold, his mouth going dry. "What's the saying Yuuji? Curiosity killed the cat?" His voice in tinged with the fire of a threat. 

Daishou turns on his heel, glaring at the man despite the panic bubbling up his his stomach, pressing in his throat. 

He feels like he's going to puke on these assholes...

"Now now Bobata, be nice! That's only a part of the saying! It goes; Curiosity killed the cat, but satisfaction brought it back~" Terushima's voice hums in a deep purr, and he presses close to Daishou, pulling him away from his friend, Bobata, and spinning him back around. 

Yuuji's hands are pressed gently into Suguru's wrists, his thumbs rubbing gently at the pulse point, as though to calm his racing heart. Their bodies are a bit too close for comfort, and Terushima's smile is somehow gentle and shark like. 

Clenching his jaw tight, hoping to ward off the beginnings of a quiver in his lip, Daishou glares at Terushima, pushing himself close until they're nose to nose. His teeth grit together as his lips peel back into a snarl. "Let. Me. Go. I want to go home." 

"Oh boy, it's too late for that now, sweet thing! But don't you worry, I'm not gonna hurt ya'!" He purrs, but his grin fades as Daishou starts to wriggle violently in his grip, trying to rip himself away from Terushima. "Calm down, shhh... You'll be okay, I promise you, but I can't just letya go. You'll need to stay with me, at least until our... Uhm... Products have been transported."

"No!" He yells. "No way in fucking hell! I'm not going anywhere with you, you fucking shit stain! I don't..." His voice cracks and his knees buckle. 

Terushima's hands move fast, one arm wrapping around Daishou's waist, hand pressing to his hip, holding him up, while his other hand rubs carefully along his upper back. "Hey... Shhh, Suguru, you'll be okay..." 

The soft words make Suguru sob out quietly, hands slipping up to grip Terushima's shirt, his teeth gritting. "Please... Please let me go... Go home... I can't... I don't want..." He whimpers, choking on his breath, his eyes clamping tightly shut. 

"Shhhh... I know... I know hun... But Suguru, hun, you're a smart guy, right? You know why I can't let you go, don't you?" Terushima asks gently, pulling back and tilting Daishou's chin up with a gentle hand. His gaze is sympathetic, apologetic. "My boss would have my head... Perhaps literally~" he laughs lightly. "And, it could get us in trouble. You could tell, even accidentally. You understand that, don't you?"

Daishou's lips quiver as he gives a slow nod. "I... Understand... But I have school, and... I have pet rats, they need food and water and a clean cage... And my attendance is perfect, I can't..." 

He's hushed by a finger brushing gently over his lips. "Shhhh... You seem to forget I do illegal things all the time~ I'll get some papers forged for ya, claiming severe illness or hospitalization or something. Your attendance will remain mostly fine, they're nice to sick kids, especially if it's a big old hospital trip. And I'll get your rats for you. Breaking and entering used to be my specialty~" he coos. 

"But, my clothes, I can't wea-"

"Daishou. I own clothing. I can bring you your clothing. Fuck, I can buy you new clothing. I just need you to trust me. You'll be alright, and once this is all done and over with, you'll go home and it'll all be okay. If you want to leave, of course~ I've been told I have an addicting personality. And an addicting dick, too, so that's an option~!" He teases. 

The brunet rolls his eyes, shoving himself away from Terushima. "God you're disgusting... Yes, I understand the situation... I'll... Go with you, as long as you stop being such a damn pig!" 

"Oh, come on now, I'm just jokin'~! You'll be alright, and I won't try to fuck ya'! Promise!" He laughs lightly, gently grabbing Daishou's shoulder. "You'll be safe. You'll be okay. I promise you."

With a slow, deep inhale, and his eyes falling shut, Daishou nods carefully. "Alright..." He resigns himself to his fate. He made his bed and as shitty as it may be, he has to lie in it... Any perhaps laying in a self made bed is better than laying in a self dug grave.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If anyone would be interested in being my beta reader for this, hmu I guess? I could use the editing help :( 
> 
> If interested, you can message me on instagram, @xxm0thmanxx


	3. Caged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daishou is transported from the museum to Terushima's house. He struggles with understanding his feelings surrounding the situation.

Before leaving the museum, Daishou is gently blindfolded, then led carefully to a vehicle.

The drive is mostly soundless, interrupted only by the thrum of the motor, the clamorous sounds of traffic, and the quiet buzz of music that is most certainly loud and obnoxious when turned up properly. Daishou is jittery and nervous (often his usual reaction), and he can feel a heavy feeling, a weight, settled deep in his chest. 

He's going to be living with a drug dealer… or, a transporter… or whatever the hell Terushima is! He's a criminal, that is an undeniable fact. Daishou can't help but think that maybe he fucked up by agreeing to tag along… he's certain he could have kicked, screamed or fought in some goddamn way. For all he knows, this could quickly become a sex slave type scenario, something he's definitely not into… sex doesn’t interest him, let alone being controlled like that. 

"Daishou, babes… relax… calm yourself~! I can see your hands trembling. You'll be alright." Terushima states calmly, unphased by the terror the other was feeling. He's dead on, too, Daishou's hands are, in fact, quivering. "Here. We're far enough away now, you can take the blindfold off if you'd like. No more traceable roads!"

"Fuck you." He spits back, clenching his shaking hands into tight fists for a moment, forcing himself to take a few slow breaths. Pushing himself to calm down, just slightly. He pulls the strip of pale cotton away from his eyes, letting it drop down around his neck. Terushima grins from his seat beside Daishou and, sparing a quick glance, Daishou realizes he's sat in the back of a goddamned soccer mom van.

"What the fuck are you, losers? Brownie-lacing PTA moms?!" He scoffs, lips curling into smocking smirk, feigning a bit too much confidence for his situation. He needs to pretend he has control. 

The man driving - the dark haired boy, the one who'd been talking with Terushima minutes before Daishou was caught - pipes up from his seat, glancing to Daishou from the rearview mirror. "Nope. It's an inconspicuous vehicle and it moves a lot at a time. Efficient, and a good disguise."

Terushima nods proudly at this (gross, it was probably his idea). "Yeah, alright, whatever you say Karen." The brunet snips, taking pride in the fact that it makes Terushima pout. 

"Well, that's rude."

"Yeah? I couldn't give less of a fuck."

"Rude!"

Daishou's ashamed to admit he actually laughs, covering his mouth quickly in an attempt to stifle it as he looks away. Terushima had seemed so genuinely offended, but in such an outlandish way. He hates to admit it… but Terushima isn't as awful as he wants to think. He actually seems relatively sweet.

That thought is (thankfully) interrupted by the boy in the front seat slamming on the brake. "Alright. Get out losers. Yuuji, stop ogling the poor kid, you pervert."

"I was not! I would never!" the blond protested. 

"My eyes are up here, asshole."

"What? You don't have tits. Unless you meant your dick…"

"It's a joke, idiot."

"Well it wasn't funny!"

"Can you two just get the fuck out of my van?"

"Oh, right!" Terushima scoots closer to Daishou, reaching over him to slide open the vehicle door. "There ya go!"

Daishou hops out, but not without complaint. "I could've done that myself."

"I was being a gentleman."

Daishou doesn't honour the blond with an answer. He instead turns to look up at the apartment building, his head tilting lazily to one side. 

It's not awful, actually. It's small, maybe three or four floors total, not counting the basement. Old, faded red bricks possess hints of graffiti, washed away by rains and the elements. "I was expecting a dungeon. Or a massive drug mansion."

"I'm not a gang leader. You give me too much credit~! I only get a portion of the drug money. Besides, the building is full of our guys, so it's kind of like a lair. We've also got old ladies!" Terushima grins. "Let's go!"

His hand is grabbed and before he could protest, Daishou's being led quite quickly into the building. 

Terushima's apartment is on the second floor, at the end of a bright, clean hallway. "Welcome to my humble home, sweetcheeks! I do hope you enjoy your stay!" The blond beams, opening the apartment door wide and stepping aside to let the brunet in. 

Daishou's surprised. What, with Yuuji's eccentric style, and his affection for tartan, he's expected the house to be a hot mess… to his amazement it looks (for the most part) pretty comfortable. The front door opens directly into a joint living and dining room area, divided only by a thin line of wood on the floor, and two stripped wooden posts supporting the ceiling. 

The living room is fairly basic. An old couch, one of the big poofy ones, and two matching chairs. One chair has a basket of unfolded clothing in it. The dining room table has a handful of pizza boxes and a stack of mail scattered messily across the surface. A half wall blocks his view, but Daishou is certain that the kitchen is behind the dining room. Behind the living room couches, there are two doors, with a wide bookcase between them. 

"Bathroom and bedroom back here?" He inquires softly, stepping further into the room, lifting a hand to point to the doors. He curls his toes in his shoes when he hears the door shut behind him, trying to help himself calm down. He hears it lock, too, and bites softly on his lip. Terushima steps up beside him. 

"Yep! Uh… do you want, like, pajamas? Or something a bit more comfortable, at least?" The blond offers, and when Daishou turns to look up at him, he notices quickly that Terushima seems to be a bit… no, a lot, shaken up too. "Sorry, I don't uh… don't normally have people in here unless it's a drunken hookup, or a close friend… so I don't know…"

He shrugs, before kicking his shoes off and nudging them back against the wall by the door with his foot. 

"I don’t know any better than you. I don't do friends, or hookups, either." Daishou rolls his eyes, his tone haughty. He follows the blond's lead, though, throwing his shoes away. 

Terushima visibly relaxes. "Oh, that's great!" he grins, “that we're both oblivious. Not the you don't get laid part, of course. That sucks."

"God you're horrid. No, it doesn't suck, thank you very much. What’s the point, anyways?! Getting laid, as you say… disgusting!" he huffs, flushing a bit. "Letting some gross, drunken stranger touch you… ugh…" how in the hell did Daishou get stuck here? Trapped with a gross, dirty-minded perv who runs around bragging about sticking his dick into anything that moves?!

Terushima laughs. "If I didn't know better, I'd say you sound jealous~!"

"I AM NOT JEALOUS!"

"Sorry, sorry~! Didn't mean to strike a nerve! Here…" Terushima makes his way over to the basket on his chair and digs through it, before pulling out a few choice items. "These are comfortable. Go get yourself changed, firecracker. Bathroom's the door on the left… want anything to eat, or drink?"

Daishou's heart sinks, and a feeling of guilt wiggles its way into his stomach… he feels a bit, well, bad, for judging Terushima so harshly. His thoughts had been based on his… choice of hobby. He seems somewhat genuinely kind. “Perhaps, a coffee, or a tea, would be nice, please… whichever is easier." He takes the clothes from Terushima's hands, wrapping his arms tightly around the clean, soft clothes. 

He hesitates, for a moment, before offering Terushima a small smile. He can feel his eyes start to water again, just the smallest bit. "Thank you. I… know you're doing what's best to keep you and your friends safe… but either way, you're still a prick, and I still despise you!" he states firmly, pressing his lips together in a tight line and padding past the blond, straight into the bathroom.

There, he locks himself in, and allows himself to sink to the floor.

He can feel confusion, anger, fright… all bubbling up inside him. It's stupid, so, so very stupid, this whole damned situation. 

Why did he have to break the rules?! Why did he have to get fucking caught? Why isn't he completely hysterical, and why, why doesn't he hate Terushima as much as he feels he should?!

Logically, Daishou knows that he should despise Terushima… he's been kidnapped, for fuck's sake! Verbally harassed, had his whole life ripped away, caged… all in the matter of a few hours… all because of fucking Terushima! 

But... Terushima is just doing what's best for his friends… his family… and despite the gross comments, and the touchiness, and literally kidnapping Daishou… Daishou doesn't think that Terushima is cruel, nor that he wishes him any ill intent. 

Yet still, all the unknown, the confusion… it's too much for anyone… locked away in Terushima Yuuji's bathroom, back pressed tight against the door, knees tucked to his chest, and warm, clean clothing held tight in his arms, Daishou Suguru allows himself to cry. 

And he cries until he can't utter another sound anymore, releasing it all for the first time in years.


End file.
